Fleas' drumsticks.

rabbit

Dog.

flea

Are you basing your hypotheses upon what you conjecture to have been the flea's host of choice?

But, given that we do not know (I assume) what flea tastes like, we need a gustatory comparison the properties of which we are familiar with.

Yeah, speak for yourself.

Mmm, fleas



OK, if we're getting all scientific-like, do fleas HAVE drumsticks? Don't they have a nasty little exoskeleton and not that much by way of musculature?

No, I'm saying he does it 'doggy-style' if you know what I mean.

I was thinking of Flea from Red Hot chili peppers!!!

My answer is wood as Im sure it is possible to fashion tint drumsticks out of wood.

I am not a monkey, just in case you did not know.


Well, yes, I suspect the drumstick would more resemble a very robust drumstick shaped lobster leg, but we aren't quibbling, are we?

I think they must have muscle to get the degree of lift off they achieve.

Given the chitinous character of the exoskelton, and the polysaccharide character of chitin, one assumes it would taste like shrimp.

No, I fear I have failed to apprehend your meaning entirely.




I refer to drumstick in the sense of turkey, rather than percussion.

Is chitin made of polysaccharides?


I had thought it might be prawn/crab/crayfish/yabby/moreton bay bug etc esque, only the sea does not enter in as a factor.

But fleas rely upon the blood of the host, which is as salt as the sea. Maybe prawn . . .

Then the answer is turkey adn not chicken?!

The drumstick looks quite robust to me...






Set said:

But fleas rely upon the blood of the host, which is as salt as the sea. Maybe prawn . . .


Hmmmmm....but rather more ironic, methinks.

Well, I do not know, hence the thread.

THE FLEA.
by John Donne


MARK but this flea, and mark in this,
How little that which thou deniest me is ;
It suck'd me first, and now sucks thee,
And in this flea our two bloods mingled be.
Thou know'st that this cannot be said
A sin, nor shame, nor loss of maidenhead ;
Yet this enjoys before it woo,
And pamper'd swells with one blood made of two ;
And this, alas ! is more than we would do.

O stay, three lives in one flea spare,
Where we almost, yea, more than married are.
This flea is you and I, and this
Our marriage bed, and marriage temple is.
Though parents grudge, and you, we're met,
And cloister'd in these living walls of jet.
Though use make you apt to kill me,
Let not to that self-murder added be,
And sacrilege, three sins in killing three.

Cruel and sudden, hast thou since
Purpled thy nail in blood of innocence?
Wherein could this flea guilty be,
Except in that drop which it suck'd from thee?
Yet thou triumph'st, and say'st that thou
Find'st not thyself nor me the weaker now.
'Tis true ; then learn how false fears be ;
Just so much honour, when thou yield'st to me,
Will waste, as this flea's death took life from thee.



Tarantella

Do you remember an Inn,
Miranda?
Do you remember an Inn?
And the tedding and the bedding
Of the straw for a bedding,
And the fleas that tease in the High Pyrenees,
And the wine that tasted of tar?
And the cheers and the jeers of the young muleteers
(Under the vine of the dark veranda)?
Do you remember an Inn, Miranda,
Do you remember an Inn?
And the cheers and the jeers of the young muleteers
Who hadn't got a penny,
And who weren't paying any,
And the hammer at the doors and the din?
And the hip! hop! hap!
Of the clap
Of the hands to the swirl and the twirl
Of the girl gone chancing,
Glancing,
Dancing,
Backing and advancing,
Snapping of the clapper to the spin
Out and in--
And the ting, tong, tang of the guitar!
Do you remember an Inn,
Miranda?
Do you remember an Inn?

Never more;
Miranda,
Never more.
Only the high peaks hoar;
And Aragon a torrent at the door.
No sound
In the walls of the halls where falls
The tread
Of the feet of the dead to the ground,
No sound:
But the boom
Of the far waterfall like doom.

Hilaire Belloc

When I was looking for information about fleas' musculature (nuffink) I found this:





Coooool...

I think it would taste like dandruff.